The Last Of Us : A Hunter's Heart
by mart.aeonian
Summary: Some call them Bandits ... Some call them Hunters ... This man calls himself 'Red', and this is his story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note : (Fan fiction, based in 'The Last Of Us' PS3 game realm.)**  
***The Last Of Us is property of Naughty Dog***

**This body of work is not a self-insert, as such - but the scenario does involve a central character of my own creation. Ellie and Joel are peripheral characters, in this one, seeing as I'm not yet confident that I could do their personalities justice.**  
**Also, like quite a few on here, 'The Last Us' has inspired me to write again, after a lengthy absence from it ... so to those who do read this ; I hope that you like.**

**In this probable one shot, Red is a hunter ... and this is his story ...**

**-**

RED MEMOIRS  
Tale 1 - "A Hunter's Heart"

You know, I'll freely admit it - that familiar click of an empty bullet chamber signified my narrow escape from the fetid clutches of death, that day.  
It had also simultaneously given away my foe's position, so after spinning almost 90 degrees to my right and spying this crouching 'tourist', I had a split second decision to make ; should I let my necessity-evolved sense of self preservation kick in? ... Or should I abandon this now proven 'survivor rationale' and follow what my gut was really telling me?

The truth be told, I had grown to hate what I had become, so the answer was indisputable.

Without hesitation, I trained my gun upon my quarry, who was transfixed, abreast the large packing crate that I had just passed. In a matter of fact manner, I then called out to my patrol partner. He was framed in the doorway, at the other end of the cavernous room, oblivious to the entire situation.

"All clear, here.", I heard myself shout, lowering my gun to my side, as I did so.

Stretch, a simian-like guy who was almost as wide as he was tall, stepped into the room. He and I weren't really friends, but the pursuit of a lasting, albeit savage existence had always spawned unlikely alliances.  
Looking to kill Stretch's forward momentum, before he got too close for comfort, I directed his attention to a nearby window bay. It was shoddily boarded over with festering planks, allowing thick reams of dying daylight in.

"I'm gonna cover this possible exit for a little while...", I said. " Just in case he tries to escape this way."

Heavy in firepower, but light on intelligence, Stretch nodded.

"Want me to stick around, Red?"

"Nah, I've got this. Join Zeb and Drake on their sweep, on the next floor. There's more hidey holes up there, than there are, down here."

"Okay. Stay safe, man."

"You too."

And then he was gone ; his heavy footfalls gradually receding into silence, whilst I urgently returned my attention to whom I had temporarily saved.

She couldn't have been any more than fourteen years old. Her long hair was haphazardly tied back, and she had an aura behind her green eyes that belied her young age. Understandably, she was afraid, but at the same time I sensed that I would have my work cut out for me, if a knife fight were to occur ... And judging from the present condition of the bear of a man that was slumped behind her, it was also obvious that she was willing to die, if it meant saving him.  
The grizzled, battle-worn alpha male in question was clearly severely concussed. His head wound wasn't bleeding out in copious amounts, but he was semi-conscious and helpless, in the face of the enemy ... In the face of me ...

"I wasn't told there was a girl.", I said more to myself, than anyone.

"Yeah, well ...", she blurted, before catching herself. "I don't like to advertise, alright?"

A brief chuckle escaped me, and scaled its way to prominence. Somewhat understandably, my amusement only seemed to make her more wary. Trying to remedy this, I dropped to my haunches to be at the same eye level. Her stare was still unwavering in its pointed mistrust.

"Is this your father?"

Why the Hell had I asked that question?  
I guess yesterday's demons are never truly slain.

"That's none of your God damn business!", she replied defiantly.

Her pluck was admirable, and her hand instinctively hovering around the back pocket of her jeans reminded me that I still held my revolver.

"Just ... Just don't, okay?", I said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible, as I slowly but surely placed my gun into the folds of my combat jacket.

"One thing I'll never do is kill a kid ..."

... Which was kind of amusing, seeing as given the chance, she probably wouldn't have hesitated in decorating the floorboards with my entrails, right at that moment.

The awkward silence that ensued was fleeting. Time was short and it wouldn't be long until the promise of turmoil was descending the staircase, once more. I rose to a vertical base, and moved toward a man whose backpack was sporting a very impressive array of both conventional and hand-crafted weapons. All of a sudden, I realised that it was also very rare these days to see a guy around my age that was actually still breathing.  
However, there was no space for retrospection, only action.

"Look, if you wanna live, then we've got to move - NOW!"

Fluidly, the girl stood up, and helped me lift her partner. Supported by us both, we bundled him in the direction of the nearby window ; our quiet grunts of exertion and drowsy discomfort being the only sonic tapestry between the three of us.

"Hold him here, as best you can.", I instructed, when we had reached the wall.

"Okay. Gotcha. C'mon Joel ; stay with me, here."

To his credit, 'Joel' mumbled some sort of response and seemingly threw all of his available strength into remaining standing.  
Thank Crap I hadn't run into him, when he was more able to defend himself - that's all I can say.

I studied the window. Mercifully, only one severely compromised plank on our side needed to be removed, in order to make a hole big enough to climb through. I grabbed the target plank with both hands, and turned my head away.

"Now this is gonna make way too much noise, so when it's free, you haul arse just as fast as you can, alright?"

The girl nodded - and with it, some of the mistrust that had enshrouded her melted away.

"What about you?"

"Never mind about me. I'll help you get your friend through, but then you're on your own. All of my group are still inside the building - so please make the most of the time that I'm gonna try and give the two of you."

Fired up, I readied myself. I was determined to make my first attempt at plank removal the only one that I would need ... but before I could snap into it, she spoke again.

"Wait!"

"What?"

Her face softened. For that one moment, she had dropped her facade of toughness. Curiously, I felt privileged to witness this happen.

"Why are you doing this?"

I didn't need to ponder. The reason was simple, and my response visibly struck a chord with her, when I spoke it.

"I ... I used to have a daughter, too. That's all you need to know ..."


	2. Chapter 2

***AUTHOR'S NOTE* - Many thanks to those of you that took the time to read the first installment. It's very much appreciated!**  
**... and oh yeah ; the action ramps up, in this chapter, too.**

The term 'winging it' had never been more appropriate.  
Previously caught between what my duty dictated and what my soul was screaming at me to do, I was now facing the dilemma of 'just where the Hell do I go next?'  
I hadn't thought ahead, so all I could rely on was my instinct and creativity.

I had to slow my comrades down.  
I had to give Joel and the girl some time to put meaningful distance, between us.

Hickey was the first to come screaming into the room. Shaven of head, built like a brick outhouse, and swathed in tattoos of dubious quality, the man was always going to be first one to any incident. For as long as I had known him, he had craved and duly cherished the thrill of the hunt, and the twisted satisfaction of the sadistic kill ... Oh yeah ; I loathed the man with a passion. The things that he had done to certain female tourists in the past had appalled me in monstrous measures - so if someone was ever wholly deserving of a BIG karma kickback, then it was this guy.

Before Hickey could properly digest the situation, I fell to my knees and used the crate in front of me to drag myself upwards.  
Feigning injury seemed like my best plan of action.  
Seeing my distress, he made a cautious but rapid beeline straight toward me. His eyes were wide and flooded with dark adrenaline.

"Red, what the fuck happened?", he drawled. "Was he here? ... Which way did the bastard go?"

Slowly shaking my head to clear the cobwebs that didn't actually exist, I pointed toward the duo's truthful escape point.

"Over ... Over there. That way."

Hickey grinned in response to my semi-whispered information, brandishing his 9mm with an unnatural glee.

"I'll get the fucker, just you watch!"

As it turned out, he didn't even make it to the window, let alone climb through it. His wide back had proved to be too much of a temptation for me.  
My first bullet caught him in the kidneys, as he reached the window bay.  
My second then burrowed into his chest, as he whirled to face me, in agony-addled disbelief ... And I'd be lying if I said that it hadn't felt good to mow the monster down.

A heavy cluster of footfalls duly signalled the approach of more violence, but I just couldn't prise my eyes away from Hickey. His messily gurgled last breath actually drowned out a yell from the doorway, so surreally focused was I.

"RED! ; WHAT THE F-?!"

Instinctively, my shooting arm raised itself.  
I still wasn't even looking in their direction. I was still looking down at my previous kill. Time seemed to slow - but in reality, my action must have only occupied its usual micro-second of time.  
Zeb didn't even get the opportunity to finish his sentence. Best that I could tell, out of the corner of my eye, he had taken my shot right on the bridge of his nose. Had I been looking at him when pulling the trigger, you can bet that I probably would have missed him entirely.

"OH SHIT!"

Drake's voice rang out in Zeb's place, and it was this that brought me out of my trance. I swivelled my head and set my stance, putting my next potential victim into my figurative crosshairs.  
As unkempt as Stretch, but considerably more athletic in build, Drake now resembled a startled deer, trapped in the headlights of an oncoming runaway truck. His trusty baseball bat, which was wrapped in rusted, bloodied barbed wire was his only form of offence ; something that was useless in a gunfight ...

'CLICK'

... until my bullets ran out.

"Ah crap!", I muttered in a resigned tone that would've been deemed as amusing to me in most other circumstances.

However, Drake seemed to be decidedly more upbeat about things than I was, and his battlecry indicated to me in no uncertain terms that he'd chosen 'fight' in his 'fight or flight' deliberations. Bat positioned above his head, Drake launched himself full tilt. A rush of Berserker rage had enveloped him, and anyone thinking straight would've turned tail and fled from the promise of being bludgeoned to death ...

... But I wasn't thinking logically at all. I was acting on impulse, driven by a pent up rage that had been simmering since this World went to shit, twenty years ago. I needed to feel physical pain as a payback for all of the terrible things that I had done, in the past - but to a greater degree, I wanted to lash out at those that had forced me to change the person that I had been ; the kind of man that I could now never truly return to being. I saw Drake's charge and I offered one back of my own. The primal rage was unfettered.

When we collided, Drake sent his baseball bat crashing downwards, on a furious arc toward my head. Thankfully, I had already thrown my now empty gun into his face less than a heartbeat before - so instead of splitting my skull, his blow was an inaccurate and glancing one. Instead, the barbs skidded off my left shoulder, via my ear, making my discomfort searing, rather than death-inducing.  
Using my forward momentum, I crashed into him in a very ungainly fashion. It was however an ugly but effective manoeuvre. It took Drake off his feet, ridding him of both his equilibrium and his weapon in one foul swoop. In a blur, my fists found his head, as I fought for superiority, upon the floor. I felt my own blood stream down the side of my neck, and it amplified my loathing.

It was twenty years of having my humanity stripped away, piece by piece.

_"DAMN YOU, HUNTER SCUM!"_

It was being two years removed from failing my wife, and losing a daughter.

_"THIS IS FOR LAURA AND SKY!"_

And it was because they had threatened to kill me and my family, if we ever tried to leave ...

_"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"_

... And I have no idea where the brick came from, either.  
All I can remember is hitting Drake with it ; not once, not twice, but at least thrice.  
All I can remember is that his face was no longer resembling one, by the time exhaustion had forced me to stop.  
I rolled off the recently deceased and found my way to a standing position, trying to catch my breath.

"Don't ... you ... move, man."

The voice was barely audible, but it held a deadly seriousness that was undeniable. Even despite this, I couldn't help but laugh aloud.  
Stretch was pointing his rifle straight at me.

"It was either him or me, Stretch.", I said, as he edged cautiously into the fray.

The ball was in his court. I had next to nothing left physically, and there was no way that I could get to him, without adding a lethal amount of lead to my body.

"Just what is wrong with you, huh?" Stretch asked. "Dammit, if it was any other person stood in front of me right now, then they'd already be a dead man falling."

So you see, I was only half right, earlier. We weren't really friends - but he thought we were. Even so, I still refused to raise my hands, in a gesture of surrender. I just stood there, swaying from side to side like an old school Friday night drunkard.

"There was a girl with him. Barely a teenager. I just couldn't l-"

"DON'T YOU DARE, RED!"

"I JUST COULDN'T CONDEMN HER, YOU DICKHEAD!"

How Stretch refrained from executing me then and there, I'll never know. Even more surprisingly, this guy really seemed as though he wanted to try and understand my mindset.

"You couldn't condemn her, but you had no problem with slaughtering your brothers?  
What the fuck, man?"

That relit the touchpaper. Angered anew, I pointed over to Hickey, the first victim.

"That pig was NO brother of mine. I'm so far removed from that walking bag of putrid crap. "

"And how far removed are ya from me, huh?", came the sharp retort. "Just how much better than me do you think you are?"

I shook my head. There was no talking my way out of this one, and the prospect of being taken back to my boss was more of a 'worst case scenario', for me ... So I bluntly told him an exaggerated truth, hoping that it'd push his self destruct button.

"Stretch, I'm a million times better than you, you ugly braindead bastard!"

And with that, I closed my eyes. There was no way in Hell that I was going to look at the bullet that had my name on it.  
Accentuated by a heartfelt and venomous "FUCK YOU!" exclamation, the shot sounded ... but all I sensed in response was a loud struggle between two separate entities, and the ping of a slug hitting somewhere other than myself.

With urgency, I re-opened my eyes - and there she was ; tenaciously piggybacking Stretch, plunging her switchblade into the flesh around his chest and neck just as frantically as she was allowed. For his part, my former partner was squealing and cussing in abundant amounts. He was spinning on his heels, in an effort to try and rid himself of the unwelcome extra weight.

"OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!", I yelled, as my body begrudgingly galvanised into action once more. Why in Hell had she come back? Was the term 'haul arse' so difficult to understand?  
I picked up Drake's discarded bat and injected myself into the melee.

And suffice to say, he never saw it coming. One big swipe to the back of the knee was all it took, sending both of them clattering downwards. Agile as a cat, the girl rolled herself away from danger, allowing me to follow up with a barbwire-wrapped 'strike and pull' move to his stomach. The cry of pain rang loud in my ears - even my shredded one.

"Quick, grab his rifle!", I barked at her.

"Okay. On it.", came the reply. She scampered across the room to retrieve it.

I dropped to my haunches and placed a hand firmly against his chest. The pressure I applied was merely to hold him in place, but he wasn't struggling at all, such was the extent of his trauma-induced daze. .  
I leaned in, so he could hear me over his panicky whimpering.

"Now listen, I'm not going to kill you ... but if you do indeed live long enough to be rescued, then please be sure to tell Galen that I quit, okay?"

A disjointed nod of his head was all that he could give me - not that I really required his sign of compliance, of course.  
The girl handed me the rifle, as I stood. Looking at this lightly freckled and diminutive spitfire, I couldn't work out if I was more angry at her, or grateful. Without a doubt she had deserved a lecture regarding doing as she was damn well told, but that would have to wait.

"There's a couple of med packs in the room next door, across the hall. Go get them and meet me at the main door.", I said to her brusquely.

She hesitated.  
Was she expecting a 'thank you'?

"Get going! There's no one else left, kid", I insisted.

"It's Ellie."

"What?"

"My name is Ellie.", she reiterated whilst making her exit ; her solemn expression letting me know that my aggressiveness was neither needed, or appreciated.

Yeah, she had probably hesitated because she had wanted to tell me her name.  
Way to go, Red.

Now alone, I retrieved my gun, before performing a quick search of Zeb's body. He had a gun pretty much identical to mine, so I emptied the fully loaded chambers. I then made my last visit to Stretch, who was writhing weakly in torment. Taking his knife wounds into account, I hadn't liked his chances at survival, but in his case I didn't want to play the executioner. Instead, I pressed Zeb's empty gun into his right hand, making sure that he saw me hold up a lone bullet, right afterwards.

"This is for you.", I hoarsely whispered. "I'm leaving you this one shot, just in case you feel the need for it. Use it wisely."

I let the shell fall by his feet.  
I had no problem in walking away from the carnage that I had created, that day ; no problem in walking away from the rules that had dominated the last two decades of my life. The one thing I hadn't counted on though, was the strange need I had to say to something more to the man that I had just left to die. I paused in the doorway and turned my head enough so he could hear me.

"And if it's of any consolation to you, Stretch, I've got to say that out of every damn hunter that I know, I probably hate you the least ... Man ..."


	3. Chapter 3

***AUTHOR'S NOTE***  
**This chapter will probably be the last, for this story. I hope that those who read it enjoy.**  
**All the best**, **and much respect goes to you all.**

I half expected her to not be there. After all, she did have a concussed 'father figure' to attend to, and I hadn't exactly been a paragon of gratefulness toward her bravery. Yeah, never mind how severely misguided I thought it was, Ellie coming back to save my weary arse was a favour, rather than a duty ; I knew this ... So when I saw her stood there at the main entrance, wearing the same solemn expression that she had earlier left with, I admit that I felt relieved. I had a chance to scale down the belligerent inclinations in me.

The two med packs that I had asked her to retrieve were on the floor, by her feet. Wordlessly, I picked them up, watching her scrutinising me the entire time, as she backed up a couple of steps. Even though I towered over her, I'm sure it was me that felt more like the scolded child. Only two other people had ever had that particular power over me, and it was bitter sweet to be reminded.  
I was the first one to break the battles of stares. I took a deep breath and exhaled a sigh that was spawned from whimsical amusement.

"OK ... Ellie ... First of all, as you might've caught, the name's Red - and ... well ... it took guts doing what you did, back there - so thank you."

Now, call me crazy, but I swore that I saw her slightly taken aback. The one thing I definitely did see however, was a somewhat smug smile flickering briefly upon her face. She was still waiting for the lecture though, I could tell - so I clamped down on my inclination to tell her that I had just almost needlessly risked my life to save her and hers. After all, for better or worse, she had just taken the very same risk for my benefit. Instead, I focused on the most important issue.

"... And secondly, where are you hiding Joel? I'm guessing that he could do with some breed of medical assistance, right about now."

She tilted her head to one side, seemingly quizzical.  
I vowed to remain silent. Curiously enough, I succeeded.

"That's it? That's all you've got for me?"

Thankfully, her tone of voice wasn't an antagonistic one. Unbidden, I snorted in amusement.

"Don't push it, Kid.", I chuckled.  
"Just show me the way."

Unsurprisingly, as it turned out, Joel wasn't very far away. He was stashed barely 100 metres away from the building, lying flat on his back, on the backseat of an almost archaic bucket of automobile-shaped decay. There was no way anyone would remain unseen, here - not even for one second - so between us, Ellie and I quickly helped get him to a nearby 'safe room' ; a safe room that very few hunters were even aware of.

One pick up and drop of a heavy steel entrance shutter later, we were away from prying eyes ... at least for the time being.  
As Ellie propped a recovering Joel into a sitting position against a set of tall lockers, I crossed the largely empty bay to a table against the far wall. The table was littered with various rounds of differing ammo, shivs and knives, but I bypassed this ensemble of death to fire up the large gas light that took centre stage, upon the surface. A soft flickering glow bathed all, lifting some shadows and creating others.

"So how safe are we?", she asked.

"We're safe for now, but Galen will be sending a re-con party into this zone within an hour, so you'll have to get patched up and get out pretty near ay-sap."

I turned to face her. She was crouched, rubbing at Joel's hairline wound with the anti-bac wipes from one of the med kits. Seeing this reminded me of my own blood loss, as well as the intense, unrelenting pounding that was threatening to implode my left ear drum. I put my hand to the side of my head ... and the damage was indeed as bad as I had feared. Much like my fellow wounded was also then doing, I tried to tell myself that my injury wasn't a serious one.

"Ellie ... Ellie, it's okay, I've got it. It's just a scratch."

His tone was a tad bewildered and broadly Southern, but the command in his cadence was very evident. This guy was more than just a tourist, he was a survivor of the highest unscrupulous order. As I crossed the room, he eyed me with venomous suspicion ; his bearded complexion set in the kind of scowl that made me want to draw my gun again, for protection. I couldn't blame him for his unspoken hostility, though. Lord only knew how much of the last few minutes he was even aware of.

"And you would be?", he finally growled.

Ellie instantly vouched for me, whilst rummaging through the first aid contents.  
It was just as well, as I was starting to feel really damn dizzy.

"He's the guy that saved both our asses, Joel - so play nice, alright?"

"I also go by the name of Red, too.", I added. "... And I've just resigned from my day job, so I'm having a pretty shitty time of it, as well."

"I guess your employers didn't take the news all that well then, huh?", he retorted, making reference to my easy flow of plasma.

"Yeah, you could say that."

I came to a stop right by Joel's side, and I opened the locker next to him. From the top shelf, I took a plastic bottle of water and a small but ornate silver pocket flask. My power waning, I closed the locker door and flopped down next to the probable Texan, my back against the metal.  
After taking a deep breath and setting my spoils to one side, I motioned to Ellie.

"Send that other med pack my way, would ya?"

Placing the thrown med kit down, I reached for the water bottle, unscrewed it and dumped the entire contents over my head. As planned, my left ear had taken the majority of the cascade, washing away the blood, but not the pain. In tandem with Ellie handing some painkillers to Joel, I picked up the pocket flask and offered it to him.

"Here. It'll help with the pills ... and the pain, for that matter."

Yeah, you guessed it - he was instantly suspicious of the unknown contents of my gesture.

"It's whiskey. No added 'preservatives', I swear."

He fixed me with a baleful stare, but washed down his tablets with the nectar anyway. The sigh he gave afterward was indication enough that the combined medication was to his liking. He handed my property back, and then uttered something that I wasn't anticipating.

"That's quite the impressive flask you have there."

Shit ...  
Trying to make it seem as though the statement didn't bother me, I fiddled with the anti-bac wipes in my med pack. It was an empty action, and the truth came out, regardless.

"My wife gave it to me, before ... well, you know ... before all this."

"So is she ... ?"

"Ellie!", Joel quietly chided, but I nodded my head silently.

"Two years ago ."

Realising that the wipes were useless for my ear, I focused myself, and grabbed my flask. From there, I unravelled a bandage roll and dowsed it with the flask's remaining alcoholic contents. I tried to wind the bandage over my shredded ear and head, but it didn't go well.

"Here, let me help."

I didn't stop her - but her assistance seemingly came at a price.

"So ... your daughter?"

"Ellie, enough."

There was more of a warning in his voice, on that occasion.

"What? His daughter is the reason why we're still breathing, Joel. Just colour me curious, okay?"

I raised my hand to stop the debate. For the first time in a forever, I felt like talking to someone.

"Nah, it's alright. You guys can be my bartender. It's been a long time in coming anyway."

It was obvious that my bartender analogy was lost on Ellie, but she said nothing. Instead, she rocked back on her haunches and sat down. Her nursing duty was complete.

"Sky, that's my daughter, was with her mother when they both went missing. I found my wife a few days later, holed up in a tube station forecourt, looking like a runner's breakfast ... But there was no trace of Sky."

"Geez.", Ellie breathed. "How ... how old was she?"

"At the time she was just past seventeen. She'd be closer to twenty, by now."

"Did you look for her?"

"Oh Hell yeah. I did all that one man could possibly do, considering the odds. I couldn't find one shred of her, though - but I've made my peace with the notion that she might even be a clicker by now, so ..."

"Ugh, that sucks."

"Yeah, well everyone left on this damn forsaken land has lost someone to this plague and its after effects, so my sorrow isn't unique ... Anyway ..."

With a grunt of effort, I pulled myself to my feet. I winced as my left shoulder chose that precise moment to demand for my attention. I brushed it off. I'd tend to it later.

"... You two need to get gone."

I offered my hand to Joel, to help lift him. I was inwardly pleased when he accepted. This whole scenario was giving me back a slither of something that I thought I had irretrievably lost.  
My sense of humanity.  
I motioned to the table, across the room.

"If there's anything over there that you can use, then please feel free to take it with you. There's no guns, but if the ammo matches anything you already have, then fill your boots."

There was genuine gratitude in Joel's voice, when he next spoke.

"Thanks. Appreciate it."

I shrugged as I watched Ellie cross over to inspect the weapons haul. I nodded toward her.

"Well, she's acted as quite the catalyst for me, today - so it's only right that I do as much as I can to keep you both alive."

Immediately Joel understood my sentiments. He chuckled softly, and I suddenly found myself longing to tag along with these two, if only for a little while. However, me killing pretty much everyone in my group had put a target on my head that was much bigger than any tourist could ever dread to attain.

"Yeah, she has that kind of effect on a person, alright.", he said. "She can be as annoying as Hell sometimes, but her heart can't be denied."

We spoke of the Devil, and she did speak, interrupting the flow of the conversation between Joel and I. Her excitement over something was totally ethereal and infectious.

"Woah! Joel, come look at this. The blade on this shivvy-thing is longer than my forearm! Ouch! - Crap! ... It's sharp, too!"

A grunt of resignation left hanging, Joel made an ' excuse me' and made his way to his cohort, leaving me alone with my thoughts.  
Suffice to say, my mind was cluttered.

* * *

"Well, you can say what you like - I still think it's dumb."

Ellie wasn't leaving quietly. Like a bull in a china shop, she clattered into her point of view on what should happen ; her eyes pleading, behind her contrary stern facade. The impact of the heavy shutter door also still rang in the ears, signalling to the entire deserted street that we were back out in the open again.  
There was no stopping Ellie. She had a case to state, and I was going to pay attention, dammit!

"Listen, you know this city well, so you could help us get out. We could watch your back! We'll be dodging hunters the entire time as it is, so there's really not much difference."

All I could do was look down at my hideously weathered workboots. I couldn't find the words to reply. Not for the first time, I found myself feeling torn.

"Joel? - Can't you tell him, please? ... You know I'm right, right?"

Joel sighed and shook his head.

"It's not our place to tell him what to do.", he said. His semi-whispered drawl was gravelly, as he spoke.

He knew the score. He knew that having me in their number meant that the Hunters would be searching with a fierce passion, rather than merely 'keeping an eye out'. A survivor of his ilk understood why I was looking to walk an alternate path, even though it pretty much guaranteed my extinction.

" ... But I do agree that he should at least help us find our way out of this Hellhole, first."

What. The. Absolute. Fuck?!  
Within the beat of a startled heart, I shot Joel a questioning look. His gaze was unwavering. He was serious, and I couldn't quite fathom out why he was.

"Being around me puts a huge target on both of your backs, Joel.", I said. "Once Galen finds out what I've done, he'll turn this place upside down to find me, trust me ... And with that kind of distraction, you'll barely register on his radar. Your path will be a shitload more clear, if I go solo."

"So what? ; You're going to leave a trail for him to follow, so he doesn't accidently unearth us, as he looks for you? Is that your plan? ... And Hell, even if you do manage to distract him, then just how long do you think you're going to last, on your own?"

If he was trying to stir my sense of foolish bravado with the harsh truth, then he was doing a great job. I clenched my fists, hoping that the action would fight off a stupid 'knee jerk' response.

"Look, I'm just trying to do the right thing, here."

Yeah, that sounded way better than belching out _"I'd last long enough, Texas!"_

"Then do the right thing. Help us out?"

It was Ellie again, saying something that resonated deep inside. Damn kid!  
She was right, though. They didn't need a martyr, they needed an ally.  
And so did I.

"Dammit!", I verbalised aloud. "Joel, you really do need to shut her the Hell up."

He could identify.

"Yeah, that's not the first time I've heard that, either."

"Hey, I'm standing right here, guys.", she chimed in, her annoyance refreshingly mischievous.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh, even despite my best efforts to hold onto my poker face. I was fighting a losing battle here, and I knew it. Resistance was indeed futile.

"Yeah, Ellie - you are standing, right there. And standing still is something that we really shouldn't be doing. So come on, let's get our arses out of here. Follow me."

And follow me they did ...


End file.
